Falling Awake

I seem to fall awake. Once
Again. By October next year,
I will become again unbroken.
Broken. Whatever I am not now.
I do not know why the river seems

Bottomless by the banks of the river
That seems bottomless. No. that is
Limitless by surrounding fake answers
Like corrugated feelings. Can’t you
Touch my life by leaving it behind?

That would seem logical but for
The wart on my soul I can’t seem
To forgive the world for hating me
And loving me at the same time by
The way I cant seem to listen to myself

Either I do not have myself though
Just the society that creates itself on
Into infinity yes onto infinity. Beyond
Reasoning is like the way I am starting
To break apart slowly my mind unraveling.

I bet my problem is that I am negative
And that is what is killing, not something.
I am my own destruction. No no no no no
I must not be my own. I am not. I am my
Own rebound my own flip and my own

Soul of a gun and I am my own health.
To bad I am weak right, un touched by
The feelings of doctors, just weak, would
You wake me up after I die? Please?
I would appreciate it beyond forever.

Forever. Beyond the forever my falling self.
Am I untouched. I am trying to hard I am
Nothing because I try to make myself into
Something I think I am connecting to another
Maybe that is the response to which I am

Requested in my last prayer of a request
By poem never ending is the result of my
Sanction. I am forever ever and non by my
Self and not able to become my self.
Don’t you see I will be forever breaking

Apart from this world by asking not of
This place, but instead asking why this
Place. Makes sense doesn’t it? Coffee
In its purest form is great. Give me the
Jitters and I am forever down by the bottomless.

Bottomless. Bottomless river… by the banks
Of the bottomless rivers… rivers I need
To swim and result in the foxily of the water
And the reimbursement of my soul. I need to
Clean my self and not let my self-become

Less then I am was meant to be. Why is
Hair red and temperament shown through
simplistic reasons…? Damn them! God is a
Cruel jokester I must ask him why he is alive.
By the time I ask myself to become something

To someone I am to late and I feel I am broken
On the inside by the time I feel like a sword
Who cant become its self inside its own scabbard
I am feeling like dying when I die but I can’t
Seem to remain alive long enough to do something

Like that. Isn’t it obvious? I must return to my
Reoccurring death…. I must return… so long,
Breaking grievous sunsets is a crime beyond
Remorse and forgiveness…. Seek it your self,
Damn it!